All the Time in the World
by No Pain No Gain
Summary: Alfred had defied everything to find Arthur again, so there was no way that he would let him go now that he had him. Sadly, the past haunted him and he was too late in the present to be able to catch up with the consequences of his actions. There is no future without Arthur, and no Arthur without pain. Alfred gave up once, but never again. Sequel to "Stumbleine", doujin by Hakuku.


**Author's Notes**

**So I got Monarchy of Spades in the mail (about time! One month late just because I wanted to save 5$ shipping hahaha yolo worth it) and then went on a rage of everything USUK and Haku related. This included Rockets (want) and Stumbleine (want).  
**

**And I dunno where I got the idea to write for Stumbleine, because it's already a few years past, but the muse hit me in the face with a baseball bat and said "You'll never get your hands on a copy of these doujins. Least you can do is write for them". **

**Also, PSA, I'm willing to buy Rockets and Stumbleine print versions, if anyone doesn't want theirs anymore (what are the chances though ahaha). Please PM me ;w; **

**SO THIS IS IMPORTANT! If you haven't ready Stumbleine, a USUK doujinshi by Hakuku (Hukaka on LJ), you probably will be a bit confused. It's best to read that first (also because it's gr9 and everyone should read it). You can read this without reading Stumbleine, though. Basically, Alfred invented a time-machine and went back in time to save his lover, Arthur, who died in a crash. He couldn't make it, though, so he gave up, gave info to his younger self, and when he came back to the present time, Arthur was alive and co-teaching with him at university. **

**You can read Stumbleine by finding hukaka's main page on livejournal and then adding (slash) 8102 dot html behind the com.**

**On a random sidenote, I really hate FFN's link censors. Also, the cover image is by Haku as well, and you can find her on dA as Hakuku.  
**

**Warnings: Verbal abuse, gay bbies, some creative liberties, I might have some times and places wrong because time machine stories confuse meeee. **

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

Alfred would never stop being shocked by how beautiful Arthur had grown up to become. Of course, the difference of time between his Arthur and the one in front of him was not drastic, only a few years, but as a man who had transcended time itself, Alfred F Jones knew the power of every second and could appreciate the subtleties of time.

Arthur had acquired more dark circles under his eyes, for one. There was a scar on his jawline, probably from a badly healed pimple. His nails had been chewed to the core. His sideburns had gotten a little bit longer. His hair was longer in general. Alfred figured that as a university professor, he didn't get much time to take care of himself. His heart twisted. Why was he not there to take care of the man he loved enough to break the boundaries of space and time for?

He couldn't help it. Like the very first time Arthur Kirkland had taken his breath away, so, so long ago, he couldn't not ask him for a date. A date concealed as a friendly meeting, this time, but a date nonetheless.

Alfred F Jones loved Arthur Kirkland. He had thought he'd lost him forever, but forever is nothing to a time-traveler.

He had to get Arthur back.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"You're here earlier than expected. Funny how in high school, you were always so late to class," Arthur remarked as he walked to where Alfred was sitting on a bench, hands shoved in his coat, grinning.

"It's because time-travelers are expected to be punctual." It's because he knew that Arthur always showed up exactly six minutes early to any meeting he had.

"So that's what you call yourself now, huh?" Arthur chuckled good-naturedly, stopping in front of his colleague. "From hero to time-traveler."

"So you remember." Alfred laughed and shook Arthur's hand politely. The formality between them was heartbreaking. Alfred just wanted to hug Arthur and be done with it. "Nah, I'd still call myself a hero. Time-traveler is so long-winded."

"Touché, old friend," Arthur chuckled, and Alfred's grin twitched. He had missed him, him and his strange quirks, his funny expressions, his breathtaking smile. "Alright, so where are we headed off to?"

The words 'I missed you' died on Alfred's lips and he stood motionless in shock for a second before grinning.

"I know a nice coffee shop about five minutes from here. We can catch up there," he suggested, loving the way Arthur's nose slightly crinkled at the mention of coffee.

"They'd better have tea," Arthur huffed, shrugging.

"They do, don't worry. I wouldn't dare keep Arthur Kirkland himself from his tea." Alfred stuck a tongue out at him childishly.

"Stuff it." Arthur rolled his eyes, and they walked together in silence.

Arthur felt Alfred's eyes glancing towards him every so often, as if reassuring himself that he was still there, but he decided not to comment about it.

The coffee shop was quaint and quiet, just as Arthur liked it. It had a rustic feel to it, the tables, chairs and benches all wooden and still smelling like fresh pine and roasted coffee. Soft jazz music played in the background, blending with the low voices of the few other patrons.

Arthur was absolutely enchanted. He was about to commend Alfred's choice of café when Alfred interrupted.

"Go sit down! I'll get us our orders," he suggested, heading off as if lost in thought. Arthur watched him go, wondering if he should stop him an actually give him his very peculiar usual before he mucked it up. For some reason, though, he couldn't speak as he watched Alfred go up to the counter and immediately order without a single glance at the menu.

He'd changed. But hadn't they all?

Arthur went to find them a spot and slid into the bench, crossing his arms. Alfred soon came back with a tray of two steaming mugs and a slice of cake. When he set it down, Arthur noticed the two forks.

"Why two?" he asked teasingly, raising a brow at Alfred. The physics teacher flinched, startled, and his eyes darted to the platter and then back at Arthur.

"Oh, did I pick up two forks by mistake? My bad. The cake it for you. Vanilla sponge and raspberry mousse," he put the plate in front of him and handed him a fork.

"Don't lie to me, Jones. You're still a glutton as ever, it seems," Arthur smirked. "You can have it all. I'm trying to watch myself."

"You?" Alfred snorted. "You're still as underweight as ever, Artie."

"Arthur. And false, I have put on a few unhealthy pounds lately. Wouldn't want to jump out of a window and end up splattered on the pavement ever quicker than before," Arthur shrugged uncomfortably.

Even though the topic of Arthur's death always made Alfred nauseous, he still managed to smile.

"Silly Artie! All objects in free fall have the same speed regardless of their mass," he commented, grabbing his coffee.

"Oh, stop being such a smart ass," Arthur grumbled. To his surprise, Alfred only laughed, laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. Arthur was left confused, wondering if he'd said something funny. All they had done was argue.

Something that felt oddly familiar.

And Alfred laughed and cried because he had missed this. He had missed them.

"Sorry," he finally chuckled sheepishly once he calmed down. "It's just funny how we've never stopped arguing." How their arguing had become a comfort to him.

"Right, right." Arthur would not admit it, but their arguing did strike a chord, something inexplicable that now welled up in his heart. "Fine. I'll eat the bloody thing. You're lucky that I simply cannot resist raspberry mousse."

"What luck, hmm," Alfred hummed in amusement, setting Arthur's mug in front of him too. "And here's your tea before it gets cold."

"Thank you," Arthur replied, cupping the warm mug in one palm and picking out a bite of cake with the other.

Alfred sipped his own drink and watched carefully as Arthur chewed his cake, eyelashes fluttering in delight and lips curling slightly upwards. His heart beat fast as he lifted the mug of tea to his lips and took a sip.

Just as Alfred had anticipated, Arthur's eyes widened, and he nearly avoided choking on his set as he set the mug down.

"What-"

"Lady Grey, stooped 4 minutes, half a milk, no sugar," Alfred answered his silent question with a confident smirk, leaning back into his chair.

"How... How did you guess?" Arthur's tongue was dry. "No... How did you know? Did Francis tell you?"

"I have my sources." Arthur always ordered the same thing when he went out. Alfred had caught on quickly after the first few times.

"Knowing that you've done your research on me is slightly unnerving," Arthur mumbled, hesitating before taking another sip of tea.

"Don't worry. I haven't done THAT much research." For he'd spent a year, day after day experimenting what it was like to live with this man, to love him, and learning his little quirks and habits that made Alfred fall even harder for him.

"Now I'm afraid I haven't done mine," Arthur laughed. "Why don't you tell me about yourself? If possible, I would like to catch up with the man who outwitted time."

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred had somberly reminded himself that Arthur would not be coming home with him and had parted from him after an hour spent in the cozy coffee shop. As he watched the man walk off into the chilly September evening, his heart was filled with both ecstasy and unbearable pain. He needed to kiss Arthur again. He needed to tell him how much he loved him. He needed to go back to the way things were.

But he couldn't do that right now. He'd waited for years and had fought for years for this moment and this opportunity, but it broke his heart to realize that he still was not happy.

He walked alone back to his flat, slightly colder than usual, and crashed on his couch as soon as he got there. His cat immediately bounded into the room, rubbing himself over his legs, but Alfred wasn't in the mood. He grabbed his laptop instead, and the white cat understood, jumping up on the couch and laying down by his master's side.

Alfred opened his inbox, and pulled out a blank email that he addressed to his brother. His fingers shook as he typed in his message.

_"Hey Mattie! Hope you're doing good._

_My job is fine so far. Most of my students are very interested in physics so I don't get much rowdiness in my class. That's a relief. The faculty is nice, too. I enjoy it here so far._

_You remember how I met Arthur? I suggested we go out to catch up a bit, so we went to a coffee place. I couldn't help it- I got him his favourite cake and tea. He looked suspicious but it was worth it. He's still so beautiful._

_Matt, I am so gay, it's not even funny. I love him, god, I love him, and I can't look at him anymore, knowing that he doesn't recognize me the way I recognize him._

_Hope to talk to you soon._

_With love,_

_-Al"_

Proofreading his email only served to making him sadder, and by the time he'd sent it, there were tears burning his eyes. He quickly closed his window, and his desktop background appeared.

It was a picture that he'd kept from the past time frame, a folded, worn picture that he'd kept in his pocket when he'd gone back in time so that he would never forget why he was messing with the natural order of things. All evidence of their relationship had disappeared upon his return, except the picture that had traveled with him, which he'd scanned and kept preciously.

Arthur and him were curled up on a couch, fingers entwined and bodies pressed close. They were laughing, lips mere centimetres from one another. Their faces were red, and Alfred remembered that they were celebrating their first Christmas together and had just finished a very satisfying mistletoe kiss.

Before he knew it, tears had spilled over and his lip trembled. The more he tried to stop it, the more his heart hurt and the more he cried. Sensing his master's distress, Hero climbed into his lap, and Alfred swept the fluffy cat in his arms, just in time to muffle in his fur the anguished sob that violently tore itself out of his throat.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

"Rough night?" Francis asked as he stirred his coffee and capped it.

"Thinking too much does that sometimes," Alfred groaned, sipping his own coffee, slouched on the couch of their building's teacher's lounge.

"What's on your mind?" The Frenchman asked.

"Nothing important," Alfred lied rather unconvincingly.

"Well in that case, look sharp. I'm off to my class," Francis shrugged, figuring it wasn't any of his business.

"Good luck," the physics teacher sighed, sipping his coffee and deciding that he had to wake up. A part of him wished he could see Arthur before going to class, but reality catered to the part of him that didn't want that.

Alfred didn't see Arthur that day, nor for the three days that followed. They worked in the same building, but said building was huge, and since their departments were completely different, Alfred wasn't surprised. Still. It was slightly disheartening.

Alfred finally saw Arthur again when he bumped into him in the hallway after class. Arthur seemed to be in a rush, carrying several books and a heavy-looking encyclopedia in his slim arms, but Alfred stepped in front of him nonetheless.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he laughed, turning around to walk with Arthur.

"Student appointment. I need to hurry before I'm late," Arthur panted.

"Do you need help with those?" Alfred asked, making a move to take the books out of his arms.

"I'm fine." Arthur jerked them away abruptly. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Surprised, Alfred slowed down and then stopped until Arthur was a good few metres down the hall. Unwilling to give up, though, he clenched his fists and yelled.

"Lunch tomorrow?"

His heart fluttered when he strained his ear to catch the faint "alright" that came in response.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred was in the teacher's lounge when Arthur arrived, looking tired already. Alfred watched soundlessly as Arthur came over, dropped his backpack, and fell on the couch right next to him.

"Long class?" Alfred tried after a few moments of silence.

"It's a wonder that some of them have even gotten through high school," Arthur groaned, closing his eyes.

"Aren't you lucky, then. Exceptional students like that don't come around often," Alfred chuckled, instinctively patting his hand and very nearly threading his fingers with his before stopping himself.

"I would hope not," Arthur sighed, turning his head to look at him. "Anyway, what did you have in mind?"

"I was going to take you out to lunch, but I think you need to sleep instead. Lie down a bit." Even in this time frame, Arthur seemed to have trouble taking care of himself.

"Not here." As if agreeing, Arthur yawned. "It's unsightly."

"Then come to my office," Alfred suggested quickly, and way too quickly not to be suspicious, he thought. "I have a really comfy couch in there, seeing as I'm Alfred F Jones." He laughed uncomfortably.

Thankfully, Arthur was too gone to notice.

"I wouldn't want to impose myself," he insisted, crossing his arms. "I only have three hours until my next class."

"I'm already out for the day. You can stay as long as you like." Alfred F Jones or not, he was still a new teacher, and new teachers always got caught with the early morning classes. It finally paid off for him, it seemed.

"But-" Arthur was interrupted by another yawn. "Bloody hell."

"Come on, you're wasting your precious sleeping time." Alfred acted quickly, heart thumping madly as he stood up. Arthur slowly stood up as well, grumbling below his breath.

"Fine. Just an hour, though," he agreed, and Alfred immediately bent down to grab his backpack for him. "You don't have to do that," Arthur insisted, glaring at him.

"Wouldn't want you falling over," Alfred laughed.

Arthur weakly shoved his arm as a half-hearted protest and then followed him out.

They walked down the hall in silence a took the elevator. Alfred led Arthur to a lone-looking office at the end of the hallway and pulled the keys from his pants, unlocking the door. He held it open until Arthur got inside and then let the door close to instead flip on the lights.

"Nice space you have," Arthur commented, eyeing the large office in slight amusement, trailing his eyes across the different flowers and plants that thrived on the light shining in through the large curtained window. "What are you, the new Head of Department?"

"The perks of being me." Alfred shrugged. "Take your shoes off and get some sleep. I need to start writing my midterm exam so I'll do that in the meantime."

"Are you sure it's no trouble?" Arthur asked, sitting (rather, sinking) into the couch to take off his neat dress shoes.

"Not at all! You need your sleep, Artie."

"Arthur," said man grumbled, undoing his tie and throwing it on the coffee table in front of him. He then unbuttoned his vest and threw that off too. He undid the last button on his collar for comfort, and then finally laid down, sighing in relief.

When he turned to look, Alfred was sporting an interesting blush.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"It's nothing!" Alfred quickly replied, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "You just... remind me of someone." The beautiful man that he'd hold and kiss and make love to, and to whom he'd do it all again if he could only be given one last chance.

"Ah," Arthur replied, slightly intrigued but too tired to follow up on it. "Well, I won't be long."

"Take your time. I'll wake you if you risk running late," Alfred promised, sitting at his desk and turning his computer on.

"Thank you," Arthur hummed, closing his eyes and curling up.

"My pleasure, love," Alfred whispered in a shaky voice, and stared down at his hands as if reprimanding himself for doing this to himself.

Arthur was asleep in the following ten minutes, and Alfred waited twenty more minutes to remove his hoodie and spread it on him. He then got to work, lulled by the soft breathing next to him, indicating that his love was still present, intact and alive.

He got a good amount of work done, and only stopped when it was half past two. Arthur taught at three, so he reluctantly stood up and approached the sleeping man.

"Arthur?" he called softly. "Arthur, wake up."

The British professor did not answer, and did not even react to his words.

"Arthur," Alfred tried again. "Come on." He poked his cheek. Still no reaction.

Alfred's hearts skipped a beat and he squatted until he was face to face with Arthur, marveling at how gorgeous he was while he slept. Instinctively, almost, he gently ran a finger down his cheek, loving the feel of his soft skin. He missed this, touching his lover like this.

"Arthur," he breathed almost reverently, looking guilty for just a second as he leaned closer, and then hesitated. He needed this, though, or he'd go crazy. He'd missed this so much, he couldn't stand it anymore.

Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to Arthur's lips, tears welling up into his eyes as he indulged in the act he'd been craving for what felt like centuries.

It was wrong, though. Arthur was not kissing back, and without that, the gesture felt lonely. It felt exactly like it had on that day. Unmoving lips, lifeless eyes. Arthur had not woken up despite how much he cried his name and kissed his cold skin.

"Arthur, please wake up." Alfred's voice wavered and he shook Arthur's shoulder. The blonde finally stirred, and Alfred was up and standing away from him in a second so that he could wipe his wet eyes in peace.

"Al?" Arthur grumbled, still half-asleep. "What's going on?"

Alfred didn't know if Arthur was talking about his obvious emotional state, but he chose to disregard it if it was.

"You're teaching in thirty minutes. Figured you might want to wake up slowly and grab some tea before you go," Alfred smirked.

"Hmm, that's a good idea..." Arthur nodded with a lazy smile that melted Alfred's heart. He yawned and then stretched before grabbing his discarded shoes.

"Do you feel better?" Alfred asked, watching him move slowly.

"Much. That is indeed a very comfortable sofa you have, Mr. Jones," Arthur hummed, buttoning his collar.

"Glad you could benefit from it, Mr. Kirkland," Alfred laughed, keeping his distance as Arthur adjusted his tie and threw on his vest. The kiss still tingled on his lips and he ached to do it again. Why couldn't he just sweep Arthur of his feet?

"Well, I suppose I will be going now," Arthur announced, slinging his backpack around and lifting his course material into his arms. "I'll be seeing you, then."

"Yup! See you around. If you ever need to get some rest, my office is at your disposition any time!" he suggested as Arthur opened the door and stepped out.

"The way you say it, you'd think you've been doing this for everyone," Arthur chuckled, letting the door close behind him.

"No way!" And the door clicked shut. Alfred smiled wistfully and dropped on the couch, sighing. "Just for you..."

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Matthew's e-mail came on the same day and Alfred was immensely relieved to hear from his little brother. As the only person who knew of Alfred's relation with Arthur, he often ended up as his brother's confidante. Knowing what his twin had been through, it really did not bother him so much.

The usual encouragements were given, but Alfred knew they were heartfelt. Ever since he'd come back from his last trip through time, and since Matthew found him crying and hopeless in his capsule, he'd paid special attention to how he felt.

Alfred decided to write back to Matthew soon and left it at that.

Arthur and Alfred made up for their missed lunch together a few days later, and it soon became obvious that they weren't just catching up anymore. Conversations started going past small talk, and by the time Alfred asked Arthur to dinner on a Saturday night, to which he agreed hesitantly, they were past the point of colleagues and were very much good friends.

They conversed like good friends and spent a pleasant time like good friends, until the bill arrived. Arthur made a move to get his credit card and Alfred, gathering his courage and heeding Matt's advice, took his bill and pulled out his card.

"I'll pay," he simply offered.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Arthur blushed. "May I please have it back?"

"Arthur, please let me do this for you," Alfred insisted, eyes hard and sad. Arthur could read him like a book and his heart plummeted.

"Why...?"

All of Alfred's pain radiated around them, almost palpable as he offered his answer, at last. After so long.

"I love you."

And at that moment, they were no longer good friends, nor colleagues, nor acquaintances, but the very same awkward teenagers who had begun something that had been left unfinished.

Arthur's silence, brief as it may have been, spoke volumes, and Alfred's entire world collapsed.

"Alfred, I... I'm already seeing someone."

"Oh." Alfred felt empty. He'd defied the forces of nature for this man, had remodeled history, had broken universal taboos and had dedicated his life's work to him. All for naught. Alfred didn't even feel sad, or angry. Just empty.

"I'm sorry..." And Arthur really did sound regretful.

"Don't be. I'm glad someone loves you." It wasn't Alfred, but he just wanted his heart and soul to be happy. "I hope he takes good care of you."

Arthur jolted, startled by his claim, and Alfred interpreted it as the wrong kind of surprise.

"I know you're into men, because if you weren't dating already, you would have said yes to me."

He left some money on the table, largely enough cash to cover both of their meals, and stood up to leave. By the time he'd put his coat on, Arthur snapped out of his trance.

"A-Alfred..."

"I just wish I could have been the one to make you happy." Alfred just shook his head with a sad smile, winding the scarf around his neck until he suffocated underneath. He'd spent too much of his life trying to change the unchangeable, and he was done hiding things from others. If only he could tell Arthur why he loved him so much and what he'd done for him.

No amount of genius could build him a machine to make Arthur fall in love with him.

"There's enough for a cab in there." He jerked his head towards the money on the table. "Go home. Enjoy your weekend."

He didn't offer him any parting words and just turned to leave.

The waiter came up to their table, blocking Arthur's view of Alfred, and by the time he'd shifted, the American was gone.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

_"Hey Matt,_

_So apparently, Arthur's dating someone already. I'm not sure how I feel. I guess I kinda expected it._

_I told him I loved him. I hope I didn't make him uncomfortable. I wonder what he thinks of me now. Do you think we can still be friends, if nothing else?_

_I don't know what I've done wrong. I wish I could be happy. Maybe everyone's already moved on, and I've spent so much time clinging to memories that I'm the only one still living in the past._

_Best regards,_

_-Alfred"_

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred made avoiding Arthur his newest favourite sport. The rare times they'd cross in the hallway, he pulled out his phone to pretend he was texting. He avoided the teacher's lounge entirely and when he actually had an appetite, he ate in the student cafeteria. He took the long way to his office. He only went to the bathroom in the physics wing.

It was boring and it was hurting him. Everyone seemed to notice how Columbia's golden teacher did not radiate so brightly anymore.

Francis tried to ask him about it, but Alfred refused to say a word. The Frenchman saw the hopelessness in his eyes and that was all he needed to know.

Alfred spent three weeks playing this little game and abandoning a part of himself every day. Matthew's previous e-mail had reminded him to take care of himself, but Alfred barely remembered to do anything but amble around and speak and breathe like all other humans. His life's work had all accounted to nothing. Often he wondered if there was anything else keeping him bound to the mortal world.

And then he remembered Arthur, even if he didn't love Alfred with the same abandon and passion that the latter did, and decided that he would live as long as Arthur would.

Halfway through the fourth week, Alfred stepped into his office after a long day of classes, exhausted in more than one sense of the term. Arthur was waiting for him on the couch, a cup of tea in front of him and a book in his hands.

Alfred's breath locked up in his throat, and Arthur lifted his gaze up at him. Removing his reading glasses, he set his book down and scooted over.

"Sit down."

"How did you get in?" Alfred asked without skipping a beat, mouth dry and stomach churning uncomfortably.

"The teacher next door has a copy of your key. I just had to ask." Arthur patted the seat next to him. "Everyone's worried. Please sit down."

Alfred could not refuse Alfred anything so he did as he was asked, falling down with a sigh.

They sat in silence for a while, both looking at the wall in front of them as if it was a work of abstract art. Arthur was the first to speak.

"I'm sorry about that night," he mumbled. "I know I upset you pretty badly."

"Irreparably," Alfred replied without hesitation, and Arthur smiled sadly.

"You've changed. Back in high school, you would have laughed and brushed it off." Arthur quickly caught up with his mistake. "Not that that's a bad thing. I'm glad we can be honest to each other."

"Time passes and people change." He knew that better than anyone. "I'm done trying to pretend. My whole life is going to be a lie if I keep being dishonest to myself and others."

"You're a mystery, Alfred Jones," Arthur quipped, but Alfred could discern the curiosity and slight apprehension in his tone.

"Well not to be rude or anything, but why are you here?" Alfred wasn't in the mood for small talk at all and doubted he'd ever again be the talkative chatterbug he used to be.

"I..." Arthur gulped down softly, all traces of amusement gone from his eyes. "I came to apologize."

"For already dating someone? You have nothing to apologize for," Alfred sighed, looking straight ahead.

"No, I mean..." Arthur let out a frustrated huff. "I don't know. For not being able to maintain our friendship. Or being insensitive like that."

"Please don't apologize," Alfred insisted. "You're not at fault."

"Then let me make it up to you," Arthur offered too quickly. "If you're free in the evening sometime..."

"Arthur, I don't want you to pity me," Alfred interrupted, shooting him a smouldering glare. "I won't feel better if we pretend to go on a few more dates."

"I don't want to go on dates if you don't," Arthur blushed softly. "I just want to go out for coffee. As friends. Colleagues. Let's just catch up."

Alfred tried to say no, but the plea in Arthur's eyes stopped him entirely. He'd agreed before he knew it, and Arthur had smiled sadly at him. A gentle squeeze of his shoulder, and Arthur had taken his things and left.

Alfred waited until he was gone to bury his face in his hands and remain immobile in his contemplative state for a long while. Time froze as a good man tried to fend off the demons of his despair.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Alfred and Arthur fell back into their pattern of little meetings soon enough. Although he knew that they were merely pretending that nothing had changed, the meetings were enjoyable and Alfred was reluctant to leave when the tabs were paid or when the sun fell across the horizon. Even if he could not kiss him good night or hold his hand as they walked towards the car, Alfred cherished every moment he spent with Arthur. He'd lost him once and refused to let him slip through his fingers again.

As fall left way to winter, a new fire seemed to have been kindled between them. Snow began to fall, and their meetings began subtly changing. The coffee shops were left behind and they began taking walks in the park, going to library-cafés, and even inviting one another over for coffee. Granted, Alfred did most of the inviting, since Arthur showed discomfort in inviting him to the flat he shared with his boyfriend, but they both enjoyed their quiet afternoons nonetheless.

Arthur took these opportunities to piece together bits of the mystery that was Alfred F Jones. They spoke of their lives, but the American seemed reluctant to share about anything before his beginnings as a teacher at the university.

Weirdly enough, when Arthur searched online about the genius physics teacher, he found meager, if not non-existent information on the period between his early graduation from high school, and his beginnings as a teacher. Different sources said different things. Some said that he went to have private physics tutoring, others said that he toured the world to give talks, others claimed that he went to a university directly afterwards. Essentially, all sources seemed to agree that that part of his life was a blurry blank, and left it alone.

Arthur found it suspicious, and just a tad... worrying. When he asked out loud, Alfred spluttered something about beginning work in a laboratory, and then expertly changed the subject. Arthur had left it alone until now, but his curiosity was beginning to take the upper hand on his judgement.

Whatever Alfred did not share, though, must have had some horrible emotional baggage to it if Alfred became shaken every time it was mentioned. Considering that Arthur had confided in him with huge things such as the complications of his rebel phase, not knowing the other man's burdens made Arthur feel useless and just a bit... left out.

It wasn't his place to know, though, as the man who had broken his heart.

If Alfred heard his thoughts every time he thought of himself like that, he would probably laugh at the irony of it all.

Of course, along with their meetings, their relationship had also changed rather subtly through the few months they spent playing their little game. They remained good friends... Until that was abruptly jostled on one chilly December night.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

A faint but repetitive noise drew Alfred out of his sleep, something that he grumbled about as he turned around to try and go back to sleep. His eyes burned and he sighed in relief as he shut them again. The noise did not fade, though, and Alfred faintly wondered if the neighbours were having a party.

More and more alert by the second, he took a few moments to associate the noise with knocking on his front door. It took him another full minute to convince his tired brain of its legitimacy, and then another minute before he was standing at the front door, half-asleep on his feet and clad in a t-shirt and boxers despite the cold weather.

Arthur stared right back at him from the other side of the door sill, arms tight against him to preserve body heat. He was trembling, and Alfred quickly snapped out of his exhausted trance, stepping away from the door to let him in.

"Arthur?" he asked, his voice hitching.

"I h-hate to ask, but-" a violent shiver racked Arthur's body. "C-Could I borrow some money? I told the taxi to wait outside because I don't have anything to pay with."

"Oh god." Alfred wasn't sure what was going on, and had to fight back the urge to hug Arthur. "Get inside and bundle up. I'll be right back."

Arthur nodded and stepped in just as Alfred grabbed his coat and slipped on his loosest pair of sneakers. He left the door open in his haste to get downstairs, and saw that the cab was indeed waiting in front of his house.

"Sorry about that," he quickly told the driver, pulling his wallet out of his coat pocket. "How much does he owe you?"

"Twenty-seven." The taxi driver replied, unsurprised with Alfred's shocked expression.

"What happened?" Alfred asked, pulling out the money.

"I picked him up on the corner of a residential street and he asked me to take him to the closest hotel. Halfway there, he changed his mind and gave me your address," the man explained, taking the thirty dollars Alfred handed him.

"Okay, thanks. Keep the change," he answered distractedly and headed back into the building without another word.

He jogged up the stairs and skidded to a stop in front of the still-open door to his flat, entering. Once he'd taken off his coat and shoes, he proceeded into the living room, where Arthur had picked to sit down on the couch, straight-backed and proper as always.

Nonetheless, his fingers, white with cold, trembled in his lap.

"Don't move," Alfred sighed, remembering too late that Arthur would never have helped himself to Alfred's bed, even if he was dying of severe hypothermia.

He ran to grab his blankets off his bed and ran back to Arthur, whose gaze was still lost, and whose lips were still white. Throwing the blanket on him, Alfred knelt next to him.

"Cut the proper crap and pull your legs up," he ordered, mildly surprised when Arthur did not object and just curled up. Alfred tucked the blanket under his socked feet and then draped it around his shaking frame, barely protected by the thin flannel pyjama set he wore.

Once Arthur had become a cocoon, Alfred rushed to the kitchen to heat some water. Out of habit, he'd stocked tea in his cupboards, although the packet was still unopened. It was still Lady Grey, though, Arthur's all-time favourite.

He also brewed himself some coffee while he was at it because he knew he would not be going back to sleep that night. Carefully watching Arthur over the counter, he prepared the tea, brewed 6 minutes and black, and then grabbed both of their mugs.

When he returned, Arthur's cheeks had regained a bit of colour and he knew that the tea would help, too.

"Here you go." He handed him the mug, watching him wiggle his arms out of the cocoon. "Lady Grey, strong and black. Since you don't like milk when you're stressed, and I think this sudden 2AM interruption counts as a result of stress.

Arthur looked surprised, but accepted the mug without further words. He winced as he burned his lips on the ceramic, and put the mug down on the coffee table, sighing softly.

"I suppose you want to know what happened..."

"With reason. You scared me." Arthur had never been disorganized. If he was planning on coming over, he would have called and would have picked up his wallet, not to mention have gotten dressed properly. From the looks of it, he had gotten out of his flat very hastily.

"Sorry," Arthur apologized, wringing his hands nervously.

"Just tell me what happened," Alfred half-asked, half-demanded.

"I..." Arthur licked his lips. "Sorry. It sounds stupid when I say it. I think I overreacted."

"Nonsense. You're not the type to lose your head. Something happened." Alfred didn't even bother hiding the fact that he knew Arthur like the back of his hand and sipped his coffee, watching the other warily.

"I just... Just had a little domestic," he laughed nervously, voice wavering.

"Didn't seem little to me." Arthur was obviously distressed. "Are you alright?" A thought suddenly popped into his head and he clenched his grip on his coffee, burning his hands. "Did he... Did he hurt you?"

"No!" Arthur quickly looked up, shaking his head. "No, he didn't... touch me."

Arthur was a literature teacher and could twist his words any way he wanted it. Alfred sucked in literature and would never have picked up the silent message if he had not learned the habits of this man by heart.

"He didn't touch you, but he hurt you," he rephrased, and briefly enjoyed the look of surprise and appreciation that crossed Arthur's gaze.

"Uhh..." Alfred could see the Arthur he'd known, the awkward Brit who had such trouble admitting his feelings. He hadn't changed, in that sense, even after all this time. "Yeah." He finally answered rather lamely, bowing his head in shame.

Alfred's throat went dry. How dare that man make Arthur feel distressed enough to lose all composure? How dare he steal his love away from him and then reduce him to this state? He was beyond angry, but all he did was tighten his grip on his mug even more, until it burned the first layers of his skin and threatened to break.

"What did he say?" Because he was ready to counter everything hurtful that Arthur's boyfriend had said, and not just as empty compliments, but actual facts that he'd gathered from experience.

"It's not important," Arthur quickly shook his head.

"Arthur, you have this tendency to bundle all of your emotional load up and stow it away inside of you and when you burn out, you're almost literally going to explode. So please just tell me."

"If you tell me how it is that you know so much about me," Arthur argued back softly, eyes pleading for answers.

Answers that Alfred couldn't give.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "It's not important."

Arthur smiled bitterly at that and took the mug back in his hands, cradling it lovingly.

"I... I just got a bit tired of the wanker's attitude, is all." He was obviously trying to change the subject, but Alfred wouldn't let him. Not until he knew how much he had to hate his love's partner for doing this to him.

"What did he tell you? Because I can assure you that you are nothing of what he's said you are." Alfred insisted viciously.

"You're too good to me, Alfred Jones," Arthur chuckled sadly, and then took a sip of burning tea before continuing. "It wasn't much, but after some time it somewhat just... wore me down. I guess I just snapped."

So he'd been doing it for some time. Alfred wanted to punch the man until he begged for mercy.

"What has he been calling you?" he asked for one last time, softer than before.

Arthur's following gentle, innocent, tortured smile would haunt him for the week to come.

"Useless. Stupid. Unimportant. Fat. Ugly. Unworthy. Slut." He chuckled softly. "I told him he was heartless and that was worse than anything he could ever call me. He kicked me out."

"He has no right." Alfred realized that his jaw hurt from clenching his teeth too hard. "How long has he been doing this?"

"A few months into our relationship." Arthur looked embarrassed and ashamed.

"Then why?"

"I..." Arthur's shame seemed to increase tenfold and he looked away from Alfred. Visible tears threatened to spill over his cheeks. "I thought... He was the only one who would ever want to love someone like me."

"Arthur..." Alfred's voice locked up in his throat, and he carefully put the mug down on the coffee table. "You... What about... What about...?"

The question hung incomplete but they could both understand it.

"He's my life." Arthur's voice shook as he realized how deep he'd dug his grave. "Lodgings, finances, transport... I can't just pack up and leave."

"But the question is... Do you want to?" Alfred asked, slipping over to Arthur's side and setting one of his hands on Arthur's, in his lap.

Arthur's eyes went to the hand on his, then up to Alfred's eyes and then back down to the floor.

"I can't... Alfred, we can't..."

"There's nothing we can't do." Alfred replied angrily. "I won't let you go back to him. Not when I love you, and I'm right here for you. Why can't you stay?"

"Alfred, it's... It's wrong..." Arthur protested, fisting his hand but never removing it from under Alfred's.

"He's wrong!" Alfred ground out. "He's wrong if he thinks he can take advantage of you like this!" Both of his hands were suddenly holding Arthur's, and their eyes met. "I can't stand by and watch someone hurt you like this. You're been strong for so long, Arthur, Jesus Christ. He's hurt you for months now and you haven't said a single thing to anyone, but I won't let this go on! You deserve so much more, you gorgeous, smart, witty, strong, beautiful man, and if he won't give you what you deserve, then he deserves nothing back from you, do you hear me!?"

Alfred finished his rant and realized that he was panting. Arthur had also retracted his hands and was now covering his face as his body shook with silent sobs. Alfred just sighed and drew the cocoon of his blankets and his sweetheart close to him, drawing the covers tighter around the crying man and dragging him into his embrace. Arthur neither cooperated or resisted, so Alfred let him cry until he fell asleep, his skin no longer white with cold, but flushed with gratitude.

_...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..._

Arthur woke up in a foreign bed, but a quick look around himself proved that he was in Alfred's room. He didn't know anyone else who would have superhero posters and physics formulas on the walls. His muscles ached and his eyes burned and he took a few minutes to evacuate the last remnants of sleep from his body. He was still exhausted, though, and knew he had to watch his sleeping habits. Finals began the next day, so he had to be alert to correct his students' copies.

He pushed himself out of bed painfully, dragging the blanket with him lest he freeze where he stood. He tested his shaky legs and then walked out of the room. From the wall-mounted clock, he deduced that it was a bit past eleven and scolded himself for sleeping in.

First things first, he set out to find Alfred. It wasn't that much of an adventure, since he was next door to him, in the second bedroom. When Arthur shyly knocked and came in, he was not sleeping, and didn't look like he'd done much of that anyway. He instantly felt guilty.

"Good morning," he greeted in a raspy voice. "I... apologize for last night."

"And I apologize for the last year," Alfred replied without skipping a beat, which startled Arthur.

"N-No, it's nothing." He sheepishly scratched his head. "Sorry to bother, but do you think I could make myself some tea?"

"Help yourself. And make yourself at home." If fate hadn't so cruelly torn them apart, it would have been his home anyway.

"Thank you," Arthur nodded gratefully and left Alfred alone for now.

On his way to the kitchen, he swung by the living room to leave his blanket and was astonished (and delighted) to instead find a mound of fur curled up on his couch spot from the night before. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was a cat, fluffy and white with a ring of greyish brown fur around his neck and tail.

Arthur fondly looked at the sleeping animal and gently set his blanket down next to him, then headed to the kitchen to boil some water. While the water heated, he returned to the living room, and sat down next to the cat, gently petting his fur.

The feline thus woke up to the very pleasant sensation of having his ears rubbed, and purred liberally, rolling over.

"My, my... Aren't you a sweet creature?" Arthur chuckled, scratching the cat's exposed throat and chin before he rolled over again, and got up to rub his scent all over Arthur. The Brit chuckled lightly and pet the cat as it moved all around him and then stopped next to him. There was a moment of uncertainty before the cat began to lick himself for his morning bath, and Arthur laughed quietly before getting up to attend to his tea.

When he came back with a mug of milk tea, the cat interrupted his ritual to bound into his lap uninvited, forcing Arthur to set his mug down and cuddle the playful animal instead.

Unbeknownst to him, Alfred was leaning against his door frame, fondly looking at the wide grin on Arthur's bright face with a soft smile of his own.

After a silent breakfast that was mostly filled with the sounds of the cat's -Hero's- eating, Alfred suggested they go for a walk to get some air and clear their heads before taking any more action with Arthur's situation. Arthur agreed, albeit hesitantly, and Alfred lent him some clothes and winter gear. Secretly, he enjoyed seeing Arthur in his clothes again. He wondered if he'd come back to him when they sorted out his boyfriend problem.

Just the thought of someone hurting Arthur made Alfred livid. He had not meddled with the past and future of the world just to have this one man he loved alive, but hurting. He'd saved him once and he was determined to do it again. He'd do it a million times if it meant that he could make up for that one mistake he'd made so long ago.

They walked side by side silently, dodging the people out for Sunday shopping on the busy street. Alfred itched to hold Arthur's hand, but wasn't sure how he'd take that. Despite having expressed his blind adoration for him the night before, Arthur still had not given him a proper response. Alfred was hopeful, though, because he didn't think that Arthur would return with his boyfriend, not after what he'd done all this time.

He wouldn't let him.

The peace between them was shattered as a car zoomed by them loudly, making Alfred's heart do somersaults. When his hearing came back to him, he realized that Arthur's cellphone was bleeping. He watched curiously as Arthur pulled it out and read the text message, his eyes darkening as he then typed the response and locked the screen.

"Who was it?" Alfred asked out of politeness, since he already knew who it was.

"Boyfriend." Arthur grunted. "Ex."

"Ex?" Alfred's mouth went dry. "W-What-"

"He texted that he was sorry and that he loved me and that I should pick up a bag of crisps on the way home." Arthur was visibly pissed. "The crisps could have waited in light of more important things, like making up. Maybe I'll regret it later, but I told him that we're done."

Alfred wanted to answer to that but Arthur's cellphone bleeped again. He rushed to answer it and Alfred saw blatant shock cross his eyes before it was replaced with a weak smirk.

Alfred's heart went out to him.

"Maybe we should sit down for a bit." Asshole or not, that man had been Arthur's partner for about a year, if not more, and letting him off the hook like this must not have been easy for the Brit. "There's a bench in the park right across the street if you want."

"Sure," Arthur clicked his tongue in discontent as he tried to find an appropriate response to the unpleasant-looking text message. From the corner of his eye, he followed Alfred until they stopped at the corner to pass the street, instead furiously typing out his message and then erasing it when he deemed it unsatisfactory.

Alfred gazed at him from the corner of his eyes, slightly worried, but told himself that he had him now, and that he never again would lose his beloved Arthur. Never.

The light turned green, and Alfred stepped off the sidewalk to cross. Arthur followed him blindly, but fell a few steps behind as he finally typed out his message and sent it with a satisfied smirk.

When Alfred realized his mistake, the very same mistake as he'd made last time, he whirled around, convincing himself that it was just a bad feeling that he was getting.

He watched in increased horror as Arthur looked up to smile at him from across the street, and then watched as his smile faded, and something black zoomed in, blocking his view of him.

Alfred's scream bore the burdens of a tortured, hopeless, and broken man.

When he finally got a clear view at him, Arthur was on the ground. The light on their side turned red, and cars began zooming between them, so Alfred couldn't see what had happened. He just knew that he was this close to vomiting his heart on one of the unlucky drivers' windows.

When the cars cleared enough to let him see, he dizzily noted the small crowd around Arthur, and the man in cycling gear that had knelt next to the Brit. Another car zoomed between them, and then Alfred saw Arthur sit up, waving off the cyclist dismissively.

Alfred's legs felt weak, and he did indeed fall to the ground in a boneless heap, leaning against the light post for support. His cheeks were frozen, and he realized that it was because he was crying. The realization intensified the terror and relief puncturing his heart, and he let out a loud wail, followed by a few broken sobs. He buried his face in his hands and bent over, absolutely overwhelmed with remnants of fear and paranoia, and gratitude for Arthur's safety.

Across the street, Arthur was helped up by the cyclist who had immediately abandoned his bike to rush to the fallen man's side, mostly to apologize for not seeing him, and to make sure he was unhurt. Arthur assured him and the few people around him that he was fine, and that he was just a bit startled. Still, a shock ran through his entire body, like a phantom sensation, a déjà-vu of white-hot pain flashing across every cell for just a split-second, before he was back on his feet on the sidewalk, with an ache in his bum that definitely would bruise later on.

After reassuring the cyclist one last time that he wasn't angry, and that he was not hurt, Arthur detached himself from the crowd, and turned to face the other side of the street, where Alfred would have waited for him. Instead, he found the physics professor's hunched frame on the ground, shaking and drawing unsure looks from the rare civilians on the other side of the street. Arthur's throat went dry, and he impatiently waited for the light to turn green so that he could sprint across the road, and kneel down next to Alfred worriedly.

"Alfred?" he asked, hesitantly putting a hand on his shoulder. "Al, come on, what's wrong?"

Alfred let out a strangled sound, as if he wanted to speak but physically couldn't, and wiped his face with his sleeve. Arthur caught a glimpse of his swollen eyes and bit his lip.

"Al, if this is about me, I'm perfectly fine. The cyclist just turned the corner and didn't see me. I'm not hurt," he assured him, rubbing his upper arm in some awkward comforting motion.

"S-So-" Arthur's ears perked up, and he leaned in to listen to the man struggling to speak. "S-So s-scared..."

"Oh god..." Arthur's heart skipped a beat. "Alfred, I'm so sorry I scared you. I was so bloody distracted by the phone that I-"

He was interrupted when Alfred suddenly threw his arms around Arthur's neck and then, without warning, pulled him into his lap. Arthur's knees hit the pavement and he winced, but even more worrying was the death grip that Alfred had on his neck.

"S-So terrified that... Again-" Alfred hiccuped, burying his face in Arthur's coat. His words were muffled and Arthur lost a few key elements of his speech to that. "Didn't want to do it again- Oh god, I don't think I'd be able to-"

Arthur was just about to ask him what he was talking about when Alfred pulled back and grabbed his face. Arthur let out a cry of surprise, and another that was muffled when Alfred desperately pushed his lips against his. Shock struck his being, and he didn't move as Alfred left kiss after kiss on his lips, and then looked up with his teary eyes.

"P-Please don't be dead," he pleaded, kissing him again. "S-So cold... Won't move... Please..."

"Al, snap out of it." From his minor in psychology, Arthur could remember the signs of trauma, and Alfred was most definitely exhibiting them under the form of some kind of confused trance. "I'm right here, alright? Let's move to the bench so you don't get any wetter," he suggested, trying to prompt Alfred to stand up. Thankfully, Alfred didn't seem to care about what he was doing as long as he still held onto Arthur. Awkwardly, they waddled together to the bench, which was off the street and inside the park, thankfully, and all but fell down into it.

Alfred still babbled on about making mistakes again, and losing Arthur, and in the back of Arthur's mind, pieces of the puzzle that was Alfred F Jones were coming together, slowly but surely.

"Al, calm down," Arthur finally stepped in, squeezing one of Alfred's hands and rubbing soothing circles on his back. "I'm right here. I'm safe. We're both okay."

Alfred nodded and wiped his eyes, but the tears kept on rolling down his cheeks nonetheless. His skin was red with irritation as the cold wind whipped him across the face and froze the tears in their tracks. Arthur fumbled around in his pockets for a tissue or a handkerchief, but then remembered that he'd borrowed one of Alfred's coats. Out of options, he used his fingers to wipe the tears off his face, but Alfred caught one of them and firmly kissed every single knuckle on it, gritting his teeth as he dropped the astonished Brit's hand into his lap.

"I'm sorry," he tried, his voice wavering dangerously. "I was just... overwhelmed a bit."

"I could see." There was no mood for jokes, though, so Arthur cut to the chase. "Alfred... What happened?"

"It's... It's not important," Alfred countered without much conviction.

"Like hell it isn't." Arthur clenched his fists. "I've never seen someone have such a strong response to a little mishap like that. So I'll ask again." He gritted his teeth. "What happened?"

"I didn't want to lose you again..." Alfred sniffled. "I couldn't..."

"Again?" Arthur asked carefully, watching his movements like a hawk. "When was the first time?"

"In..." Alfred hesitated. He hesitated for a long moment. And then he broke yet another taboo. At this point, he had stopped counting. All for Arthur. "In the... other time loop."

Arthur wasn't stupid. He could quickly make out an idea of what had happened. And really, his shocked silence was justified, because the implications of such a sentence were so grand. So unbelievable. So extraordinary. For a second, he refused to believe his own suspicions, but it all added up. It all made sense. Arthur was suddenly terrified.

"Alfred..." He swallowed heavily, looking into his eyes. "Alfred... What have you done...?"

"I love you," the American choked out as an immediate response, as if it was the obvious answer. "I can't live without you."

"Al... What did you do?" Arthur asked again, burning with the need to know.

"It was for you," Alfred sniffled. "The time machine. I completed it because of you..." His throat clogged up and he looked away. "Because you died..."

"I..." Arthur swallowed. "I died...?"

"We were crossing the street and you fell behind... Hit by a car. Gone on the spot." Alfred let out a choked sob again, biting his lip until it bled. "It was... our one-year anniversary together..."

"Oh my god..." Arthur at this point felt numb, and could hardly believe anything he heard, even though he knew it made sense, and that it was probably all true.

"I finished the machine... Went back in time. Tried to save you..." Alfred suddenly hugged himself, as if an overwhelming loneliness had suddenly dug a void into his very soul. "So many times... No matter what I tried, you... you always..." He couldn't finish.

"Alfred..." Arthur tried to interrupt, but Alfred was not done.

"I tried so hard!" he made a loud, frustrated noise, drawing the attention of a passerby who gave him a funny look. "I tried to stop us, then just me, and then just you... Then I went back later and told my younger self to stop being your friend..." He lifted his glasses off his face to wipe his tears better. "If we didn't date, you wouldn't have died..." He let out a bitter chuckle. "But I was so... stubborn... I did it anyway... And you died. Again. Time and time again, I watched you fall, I watched me kneel and cry and kiss you over and over, begging you to come back, but-" A strangled sob. "I gave up. I thought I wouldn't be able to save you and that we just weren't meant to be."

"Then how...?" Arthur asked, white in the face with this overload of information and emotion, on the verge of shocked tears, absolutely moved by Alfred's dedication and the horrible pain he went through for his sake.

"I thought I'd let time run its course, and gave my younger self some formulas that would have taken me months to figure out, otherwise." Alfred laughed in genuine amusement. "Damn bastard finished the time machine quickly and left high school early."

He looked up at Arthur, and saw recognition in his eyes. He'd caught up, and shock had, too, because tears were sliding down his cheeks as well now.

"I-It's what happened... in this time loop," he concluded rightly, trying to wipe his tears away before they multiplied. "You left high school and you left me, and... we never met until you came to teach at the university."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again. It thrilled and terrified me that by giving up, I'd saved the man who meant most to me in my life." He chuckled shakily, giving Arthur a sheepish smile.

"All of this..." Arthur was beyond astonished, and if he hadn't fallen for Alfred so far, then he was sure that now, his heart belonged entirely to him, and to no one but him. The man who'd revolutionized the modern world and who'd opened a billion new doors to science... for him.

"I love you," Alfred laughed again, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his pictures innocently, as if yet again, the sentence explained everything. Arthur patiently waited, throat dry, for Alfred to give him his phone, and almost fainted when he saw the picture of himself when he was a few years younger, nose to nose with a younger Alfred under a mistletoe. He'd never been to a Christmas party with Alfred. And they both looked so happy... There was no doubt.

"Al, I... I don't know how to put this into words..." He handed the phone back to Alfred, who dried the last of his tears, and looked at him with a proud gaze. He looked relieved, younger, as if someone had finally released him of his burdens. "For you to have done so much for me is..." His voice broke, but he kept going even as his lips quivered and his eyes burned. "... Unbelievable. I don't know what I've done to deserve a man who would rip through physic's basic principles, mess up the natural order of things, and violate a hundred taboos, just to save me from my own mistakes..."

"I've blamed myself every single day, Arthur. I couldn't let you go... I'll never let you go again." Alfred laughed, amused by the cheesiness, but sincerity of his promise. "I love you, god, I don't think I love anyone or anything as much as I love you."

"Why have I missed you for so long?" Arthur sobbed out, gentle leaning into Alfred's arms, and then falling into a full embrace that tightened on both sides, as if afraid that letting go would ruin everything.

"Why have I taken so long?" Alfred reciprocated the reflection, burying his nose into his beloved's hair. Finally, they were reunited. Finally, at last, he wouldn't have to suffer anymore, he wouldn't have to think that he'd failed, he wouldn't have to wonder why he was still alive anymore.

"So all of these facts about me..."

"I love you," Alfred replied, and it did indeed answer the question, this time.

"And the habits..."

"I love you."

"The way you know me..."

"I've never known anyone as I've known you. I love you. I really do." Alfred assured him, drawing back, and pressing a kiss on Arthur's lips. This time, Arthur returned the kiss, for the first time since before the accident, which now seemed so distant. Alfred knew that his work was finally over, and that life had just begun.

They could finally take it slow. There was no rush anymore, no haste against time's arrow, struggling to reclaim the times that they'd lost. Just peace. Soothing peace, and the power to finally take things one step at a time. Once they calmed down, they could go home, hand in hand, and talk without barriers this time. They would then figure something out with Arthur's ex, and would move him out, and definitely in with Alfred. They'd get to know one another again, in the way they used to. Alfred would fill in the gaps in Arthur's understanding of their situation, and would, soon after, confess the emotion behind his time-travel, rather than just the events.

Burdens were dropped. Pretenses were dropped. Sadness was dropped. And a bright future ahead of them remained.

No more fighting the flow. No more hiding any secrets. For the next couple of years, Arthur and Alfred agreed to catch up, in a whole new sense of the term, and take it slowly so that they would regain everything they'd lost. Neither of them felt the rush anymore, though. When they held hands, it finally felt like they had all the time in the world.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Hope that was good though. I have my doubts sigh. **

**I hope you kind of followed the lexical field of 'time' because there were a lot of elements from that in the text (including and not limited to the word 'time'). The ending was a little bit abrupt, too, and I wanna apologize, but I wasn't sure what else to finish with? Finishing with an ellipse is no fun, I know :C I do like the last sentence, though uwu **

**I also apologize for overused plot device aka domestic verbal abuse but at least it wasn't over overused plot device domestic physical or sexual abuse. Notthatthosearebadijustmeanuhhhcough**

**Anyway. Hope you liked! Please give lots of credit to Haku, too, because wow 10/10 brilliant doujin. **

**And if you have comments or criticism, any kind of feedback from a word to a novel, please review! **

**-NPNG**


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